“How can she judge?” asked Serge. “She doesn’t know anything about it.”
Jessie went pink and her neck stiffened, and she turned to Frederic. He produced the drawings from the portfolio and placed them round the room, and an impromptu exhibition was held. Serge told them which they ought to admire, and they admired them. On the whole they were puzzled rather than interested. They were soon exhausted as a subject of discussion, and Frederic, having drawn Jessie away from Serge, began to tell her of his experience at old Lawrie’s house. Presently his voice drowned all the rest and all in the room were listening.
“I asked young Bennett Lawrie to supper next Sunday,” he said.
“He’s very beautiful, isn’t he, Gertie?” observed Minna pointedly.
“You know him then?” asked Frederic.
“He’s an acolyte at St. Saviour’s. We’ve been to St. Saviour’s once or twice, haven’t we Gertie?”
“Have we?” Gertrude’s face was a brilliant Turkey red.
Mrs. Folyat wagged her head.
“I don’t think your father will like your filling the house with young men.”
“Rubbish, mother,” said Serge. “Every house ought to be filled with young men and young women. Houses are quite intolerable unless people are making love in them.”